How Now, Brown Cow?
by RockArt
Summary: Sam turns 18 and is thrown out by her mom. She ends up at Spencer's apartment. But where will she go from there?
1. Chapter 1: Compass

How Now, Brown Cow? (a Spam story)

1. Compass

Spencer opened the door to find Sam standing there.

"Hey, Sam, Happy Birthday! Whatcha doin here? I thought you'd be out celebrating."

"Nah, I was just at home. My mom gave me my birthday present. She threw me out."

Spencer was stunned. Sam had said it casually like it was no big deal, but he could see tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"What do you mean she threw you out?"

"She said I was eighteen now and she didn't have to deal with me anymore. Then she threw my stuff out the door and kicked me out. I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I came here."

Spencer could hear the tension in Sam's voice as she struggled not to cry. She had always maintained a tough façade and hated crying in front of anyone. Spencer opened his arms.

"Come here"

Sam fell into his arms, crying.

"I don't know what to do. Carly and Freddie already left for college and I've got nowhere to live and no job. What am I going to do?"

Spencer hugged her tightly. She was like a sister to him and he cared for her deeply. He knew how traumatic it had been when Carly and Freddie had left her behind.

"Hey, kiddo. It's OK. You'll figure it out. Look, why don't you just stay here for awhile until you can find a place? You can use Carly's room. I'm sure she won't care."

"Thanks, Spence. I knew I could count on you. Why are you so good to me?" she said wiping away the tears.

"I care about you. You've been a great friend to Carly and I know it's been tough for you. Now, how about some food? That'll make you feel better."

Sam smiled up at him. "You know me too well" she sniffed.

Over the next couple of weeks Sam would go out looking for a job while Spencer worked on his sculptures. He had turned the old iCarly studio back into his art studio and spent most of his time up there.

Sam burst through the door, a big smile on her face.

"Spence, guess what? I got a job!"

Spencer, sitting on the couch, looked up at her with a smile. She looked so happy. She looked so beautiful.

"That's great!" he said. "Where are you gonna be working?"

"I got a job at the Bagel place."

"Box of Bagels? I love that place. I'm so proud of you."

Spencer jumped up and gave her a big hug. Sam smiled even wider. No one had ever been proud of her before.

"Sooo" she said slowly and cautiously "I guess I'll be moving out as soon as I find a place."

She really didn't want to. She really liked living here. Carly's room reminded her of her friend and the great times she had. Plus she really liked hanging out with Spencer. But she was worried she had overstayed her welcome.

"You know," Spencer started, hesitantly. "You don't have to go. You could stay here. The bagel place isn't far. I mean, you could pay rent and just live here."

Sam looked at him.

_Oh, no._ he thought. _I said that all wrong. Now she'll think I think she's been a freeloader._

"I mean" he said before she could answer "you could just stay. I mean you don't have to pay rent. I don't want you to pay rent. I just thought maybe it would make you feel more like it's your place too…."

_I just keep making it worse._ He really did want her to stay. The apartment was empty without Carly and he really enjoyed being around Sam.

Sam thought about it for just a moment then said brightly "That'd be great. Thanks, Spence!"

He looked at her smiling at felt a great relief that he hadn't offended her. He was also afraid he might have come on too strong. He just liked having her around.

"Well, why don't you just stay in Carly's room? If you want to move some of her stuff I'll get some boxes and store it in the basement. That way it'll be your room.

"Cool."

She finally had her own place. Sort of.

Sam had been working at the bagel place a few weeks. Spencer had taken to stopping in every day for a bagel and coffee just to say hello. One day he noticed her doodling on her order pad.

"Hey, how's it goin Sam?"

"Eh, alright I guess."

"Watcha doin?"

"What do you mean? I work here."

"No. I mean your drawing."

"What, this? I'm just doodling. This job is either way too busy or way too boring. Nothing in between."

"Can I see?"

"What? Nah, it's just a doodle."

"No, really. Please. Let me have a look."

Sam handed over the pad. He took it and began to look carefully at what she had scribbled on the various pages in the back. She looked at him curiously.

"What?"

"These are pretty good."

"They're just scribbles" she said.

She was embarrassed to show him her sketches. She just liked to sketch the strange people who came in sometimes. But they weren't very good and she didn't mean for anyone to see them.

"No, really. They're really good. You have talent."

She thought he was just being kind. Although she did recall Carly telling her about Spencer's brutal assessment of her drawing skills.

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, totally. You should take some lessons. I think you could really be good."

She was surprised and delighted. No one had ever told she was good at anything before. Except fighting and getting into trouble. And Spencer was an artist, so he would know. She smiled at him.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Hey why don't I show you how to draw even better at home?"

Sam's face lit up.

"That'd be great. Thanks, Spence."

Sam suddenly frowned.

"Didn't you give Carly lessons? She told me that didn't work out too well."

Sam looked at him nervously. Had she insulted him? She hadn't meant too.

"Yeah" he said still smiling. "But she really had no talent. But don't tell her that."

His face showed concern. He loved his little sister, but honestly, she had no talent.

"Don't worry" Sam said. "And you're right. That girl could not draw to save her life."

They both laughed thinking of Carly's bunny picture.


	2. Chapter 2: Apprentice

How Now, Brown Cow? (a Spam story)

2. Apprentice

The next few months were the best in Sam's life. Every day Spencer would work with her on her techniques and introduce her to various media. Some days she would work with him in his studio, completing a sculpture. But what she loved best were the trips to the Seattle Art Museum. Here Spencer introduced here to the world of visual art.

She had never been in an art museum in her life. Her home life was not one that encouraged intellectual or cultural pursuits. In response she had always put down the artsy geeks in school, lumping them with Fredwierd and his nerd friends. Her only knowledge of art was the quirky pop-art sculptures Spencer did. So when she saw so much variety and history she was overwhelmed.

"Sorry, Sam. Didn't mean to freak you out. I just wanted you to get a taste of what types of art are out there. I think we'll make our trips here more focused in the future."

Sam looked at him with amazement and great affection. "Thank you, Spencer. I never would have known all this was here for me. I would have been a waitress in a bagel store my whole life."

"I don't think so" he replied. "You're too special for that. Now let's go make obnoxious criticisms so people can overhear us."

Sam laughed at his smirking face. "You're on."

That first visit had opened Sam's eyes and she began to appreciate what Spencer had really done for her. Working in his studio became more than just work. Now she began to see Spencer as a creative and imaginative artist. True, he was no van Gogh, but he was an artist. And now she would be too.

Carly came home on break and spent the holidays with Sam and Spencer. She had never seen either of them so happy. She could never have imagined that Sam would be the artist type, but always knew she was special.

They sat down to dinner one evening when Spencer made an announcement. "Ladies, the Traver gallery is going to have an exhibition of our work!"

"That's fantastic" cried Sam. "You've been working so hard on those pieces. Your sculptures are fantastic."

Carly however heard the one word Sam had not: 'our'. She realized Sam still saw herself as Spencer's apprentice, but Spencer saw her as a partner. And if she wasn't too far off, as something more.

"That's really great." Carly beamed. Her faith in her brother had never wavered, but now she became a little worried about him.

After dinner Sam turned in. It was a little weird sleeping in Carly's bed when Carly was here, but Carly insisted it was Sam's apartment too now. She would sleep in Spenser's room, while he took the couch. She sat down next to her brother and gave him a hug.

"How ya doin'?"

"Carly, I have never felt better in my life. But I miss having you around."

"Aww, that's sweet, but Sam's here."

"Yeah, she's great. We just hang and work on the sculptures and talk about art. She's amazing. Who knew she'd be a great artist?"

"You did" Carly answered.

The break passed quickly and on the final day of her visit, Spencer took Sam and Carly to the exhibition. There were the sculptures he and Sam had worked on. Carly could see Sam's influence on them right away. They were still quirky and playful like Spencer, but the skill and artistry that came out had to be Sam's influence.

Sam looked at the pieces, then turned suddenly to Spencer.

"My name's on this!" she cried.

"Off course" Spencer said off-handedly. "You did most of the work on it, you deserve credit for it."

"But Spencer, it was your sculpture. I'm just your assistant. I don't deserve to have my name on it."

"Sam, you are as much an artist as I am and it wouldn't be half as good if you hadn't made it better. You deserve more credit than even I give you. If you'll look over there, you may see something familiar."

Sam turned and instantly recognized a piece she had been working on as a side project, with Spencer's encouragement. She turned to him, puzzled.

"Why did you show that? It's no good. I didn't really know what I was doing. Everyone is going to hate it."

"Are you kidding" he replied. "It's incredible. Probably the best piece in the show."

"I don't know much about art" Carly reassured her friend "But that is amazing. No way they don't like it."

Sam seemed somewhat placated, but still showed uncertainty and her natural sense of insecurity, a feeling previously masked by toughness. But this wasn't high school anymore. She was clearly very nervous. Spencer threw his arm around her.

"Listen to me" he said seriously "you are a great artist. Better than me actually. And now everyone else will get a chance to see that."

Carly noted the flush in her brother's face and the look of doubt which remained on Sam's.

The next morning they sat at breakfast, waiting to take Carly to the airport. Spencer suddenly jumped up.

"Here it is!" he shouted.

Sam and Carly were both startled.

"Here's what?" asked Carly.

"The review of our show in the Arts section. That guy always hated me but I bet he's changed his mind. Here read it." He handed the paper to Sam.

"Blah, blah, here we go. The exhibit showed an array of works by the young Seattle artist Spencer Shay. Shay's previous works have been somewhat wistful and childlike, but without exhibiting any great skill. Now however comes a sea change and the name of it is Samantha Puckett, Spencer's new partner. While the new pieces still reflect the immature themes Shay has displayed previously, there is now a new edginess to the pieces and much greater skill shown. This can only be due to Puckett, whose solo piece clearly showed her to be the source of the vast improvement. Readers should be expectant of great things from the hitherto unknown Puckett, who appears to have achieved marvels so early in her career."

"Huh, that doesn't sound too bad I guess. What does it mean?" Sam asked. She was still learning the ways of the art world.

Spencer beamed at her. "It means what I said before. You are great."

Carly could see the slight hurt behind his eyes, however. The critics still didn't like him and thought he wasn't very good. And reading between the lines they were saying Sam would be better off without him.


	3. Chapter 3: Master

How Now, Brown Cow? (a Spam story)

3. Master

In the weeks that followed, Spencer and Sam continued in their routine of work, lessons and visits to museums, galleries and exhibitions. Spencer encouraged Sam to do more solo projects, though he was always willing to help Sam anyway he could. He desperately wanted her to be his partner, but came to believe what the critics had said: He was holding her back.

Shortly after the show, inquiries and offers began to come in for Sam's work. Although he never showed it or said anything, it stung him that he was essentially being ignored. Instead he constantly complimented Sam's work.

"Sam, your tastes and experiences are different than mine. You are really a great artist in your own right and you shouldn't try to follow my style, but find your own. I think if you find the material and direction right for you, you could do great things."

Sam at first thought he was trying to get rid of her, but then he began introducing her to other artists and gallery owners, exposing her to more styles and opportunities. She found that while she loved Spencer's sweet happy pop-art style, it really wasn't her. Her life had been about pain and shame, a hard life made palatable by a few friends. Her new works began to reflect this cynicism and angst. Her technique, however, soon surpassed Spencer's and one could genuinely see she was the more skilled artist.

Spencer still sold his sculptures. There was always a market for optimists, but he clearly was out of touch with the modern art world. Dark and edgy was the taste of the day and dark and edgy is what Sam had mastered. Soon there were fewer collaborations and joint exhibits and more solo shows by Sam.

This didn't bother Spencer very much. He had never been popular with critics and wasn't really part of the 'art scene', preferring to work alone outside the art cliques. And he really was happy for Sam as he saw her blossom into an exceptional artist in her own right.

He also began to see her blossom in another way. Starting in her junior year in high school Sam had developed into a stunningly beautiful girl and Spencer had become acutely aware of the change. Her shirts were a bit tighter and her curves a bit curvier. He had always thought she was pretty, but in a very brotherly sort of way. During Sam and Carly's senior year however he had begun to really notice her. Sam still wore her dumpy clothes and kept her tough, mean reputation, but Spencer saw her every day away from school, when her guard was down and when she was relaxed.

He noticed her golden curls and amazing eyes, a dazzling smile and adorable nose. He had caught himself just looking at her sometimes and had forced himself to turn away. She was Carly's friend and he cared for her very much and did want to lose that or endanger her friendship with Carly.

Sam had seemingly given no notice to Spencer's interest. Towards the end of her senior year Sam convinced Carly to make her look 'more girly'. Spencer thought that was a shame, for although Sam could be stunningly beautiful when made up (as she had been at prom), he found the natural, relaxed Sam even more attractive.

As Sam became more popular, she began going to more parties and events without Spencer. He began to miss their movie nights and often found himself in the studio alone. They still worked on some things together, but now it was him receiving the advice and guidance, as she completed works far superior to his.

Sam had in fact begun to listen to her new friends in the art world, asking Spencer why he kept doing his 'silly' sculptures. At first he took this a backhand complement that he was capable of more, but soon he realized that Sam had become tired of Spencer's style and found it simplistic and trivial. She never said this to his face, but certainly news from the art world was clear: Sam was moving ahead and leaving him behind.

Spencer was not really concerned by how others saw him. He had been validated in the opinion of his hero, Harry Joiner. What depressed him was the way Sam began to slip away from him. They spent less and less time together. She often went to events without him. She even held her own shows without inviting him to the opening. More and more Spencer felt hurt and depressed. Sam had become very important to him and, he admitted to himself, he had fallen in love with her.

The final blow came when Sam announced that she was getting her own studio space downtown. "Not to keep crowding him" as she put it. Soon he only saw her occasionally, when she chose to stay at his (he no longer thought of it as 'our') apartment.

The end came when he returned to the studio pretty late. He decided he should finish up a few projects and headed upstairs to the loft studio. As he reached the top he thought he heard voices in the studio. He suddenly became alarmed, because Sam almost never came by anymore and never worked with him in his studio.

As Spencer slowly moved towards the door he heard not voices, but moaning. Totally puzzled he cautiously peeked into his studio. There was Sam in the arms of some strange man. They were kissing passionately and the man had his hand on her thigh. She kissed him and softly sighed at his touch. Spencer's heart broke as his pulse raced in a competition to see whether lust or heartbreak would win. He was frozen and could not turn away as he stared at Sam's incredibly beautiful form. Her eyes were closed and her face a prefect mask of lust and pleasure. Spencer couldn't take it and heartbreak won out over desire.

He fled the apartment into the street. Walking around he began to think about Sam. She wasn't his girlfriend, why should he be jealous? She was an adult and he should have known she would hook up with other people. He was already sure she wasn't a virgin and hadn't been for some time. Then again neither was he, though he hadn't dated a girl, let alone slept with one, since Sam had moved in. Had he been 'saving himself' for her? Wasn't that ridiculous?

Spencer walked around for hours, finally settling onto a park bench where he broke down and began to cry. He felt so lost. Who could he talk to? He only ever talked to Sam and Carly. Carly. His little sister. He had to go talk to her, but first he had to talk to the man he most admired: Harry Joiner. He had some big decisions to make.


	4. Chapter 4: Teacher

How Now, Brown Cow? (a Spam story)

4. Teacher

Spencer hadn't spoken to Harry in a long time, so the latter was somewhat surprised to get a call from Spencer, especially at that hour.

"Spencer Shay? Yes, I remember you. Why are calling me at this hour? ... Alright. You know my studio? Meet me there in an hour."

Harry still hadn't completely woken up when Spencer arrived. They both looked bedraggled and in need of sleep.

"What's so important Spencer?"

"Harry, am I any good? As an artist I mean?"

"This again? I thought that was settled. For the last time, I'm sorry. You are very good. Was that all?"

"Harry, I know you think I'm good, but am I really? Sam is so amazing and the better she gets, the worse my art has become."

"Listen, Spencer. I think you're art is terrific. But then I'm a pop-artist myself. The fact is the art world has left us behind. Pop Art is out. Everyone says it's tired and trivial. And you, my friend, with your whimsical sculptures, are the epitome of trivial. That's not a bad thing in my mind. Our art makes people happy and that's why I keep doing it. But you will never achieve fame or riches. And frankly Samantha is more talented that both of us put together. I'm sorry if that's not what you want to hear, but there it is."

"Harry, I think you're right about everything. Thanks and sorry for getting you up."

"That's alright. Want some coffee?"

"No, I have to go talk to my sister. See you around."

He flew out the next day after calling his sister. He didn't want to interrupt her studies, but as soon as she heard his voice, she insisted he come immediately. When she met him at the airport she could hardly recognize him. Gone was the happy, carefree Spencer she had always known. She had seen him depressed before, but never so utterly defeated.

"Fine older brother I am, laying all my problems on you."

"I love you, Spencer. You know you can tell me anything. We can figure it out, I'm sure."

Slowly over the course of the morning, Spencer began to relate what had changed. Sam's meteoric rise, his dismal fall (check that, he had never really been all that good) and finally his admission that he had been in love with Sam for a long time, but that she obviously didn't feel that way.

Carly was not shocked by his admission. She had seen how Spencer had become more attached to Sam, but remembered her visit and the way the Sam and Spencer seemed destined to go down different roads. She had worried that Spencer would really get hurt and now that had come to pass.

"Don't blame Sam" Spencer said. "She never made me any promises or said she loved me. And her success is due to her own talent."

"No" Carly interrupted. "YOU are the one who saw her potential. YOU are the one who cared for her when she had no one. YOU are the one who made her a great artist!" Carly had become rather vehement.

"Carly, Sam had the talent and I just helped her to realize it. Please don't be mad at her. You're her best friend and I think she's going to need you someday. As for me, you know I'm OK. Because when I think about her, I also think about the amazing things she has created. Carly, she's a genius! Some of her works are true masterpieces! That's worth more than the happiness of some hack."

"Spencer, you are NOT a hack! You are the best brother a girl could ever have and the best man a woman could ever find! And I will be mad at Sam, if only because she's too stupid to see how amazing you really are."

Tears were welling in Spencer's eyes as he gave his little sister a long hug. He knew she would help him decide things.

"What are you going to do?" Carly asked nervously.

"I'm going to leave Seattle. Maybe find a small town and teach me some art. I really enjoyed teaching and I think I could be good at it."

Carly beamed at him. "Spencer, you would be GREAT at it!"

It was Spencer's birthday. Sam only knew because she had programmed her iPhone to alert her. She had totally forgotten about it. She felt slightly guilty, not having talked to him for several weeks. Well, maybe she would go over to his studio. She still had to get a few of her pieces she had left there. And it would give her a chance to catch up with him.

The lobby was empty when she came in and she went right up to Spencer's (funny, she used to think of it as 'our') loft. As she opened the door, she let out a gasp. It was completely empty. All the furniture, decorations, sculptures, everything was gone. She went right to Spencer's bedroom to find it similarly deserted and empty. Even the loft upstairs was cleaned out.

She sat on the floor for a few minutes, thinking of the iCarly shows they had done there. Carly and Freddie. And Spencer. Spencer had always been around, willing to join in, always happy to make a fool of himself for their sake. Tears fell on her cheek. Where had those days gone? It really wasn't that long ago. Less than two years, but it felt like forever.

Sam headed back to the lobby where she was startled by a belligerent Lewbert.

"WHAT do you think YOU'RE doing?" he screamed.

Sam was in no mood and in any event wasn't some child to be yelled at anymore. Lewbert must have seen that in her look, for he quickly backed off.

"Where's Spencer?" she demanded.

"Who?"

"Spencer Shay? Where is he?"

"Oh him. The artist guy. Yeah, he moved out a few weeks ago."

Sam was stunned. She had always been able to go to Spencer's place. He always let her in no matter what. She was always safe there and cared for. Now that was gone. Panic set in.

"Where did he go? WHERE DID HE GO?" she screamed.

"Geez, I don't know. Away." Lewbert paused staring at her as if she might attack him.

Sam turned to leave.

"He left some stuff in the basement, though."

Sam spun and stared at him. The basement? Then she remembered the old storage cages down there. Where Spencer used to keep his camping gear and other useless junk. He got locked in there once. She began to smile at the memory, then suddenly ran to the stairs.

There was the cage. And she still had a key. Right next to the apartment key. She opened the door and looked at two large wooden packing crates, some boxes and a lot of things covered by tarps. The crates drew her attention first, as her name was stenciled on them. Samantha Puckett. No address. Now that she thought about it, had she even given him her address?

The crates were closed but not nailed down. Lifting the lid she saw frames neatly and carefully packed. Pulling out one she immediately recognized a practice painting she had done. A portrait of Spencer. It wasn't very good, but that's not why she began to cry. There was his goofy, sweet smile staring at her. She stared at the face a long time. Had she really never noticed how handsome he was? She wanted to talk to him. "Hey, Spence" But it was only a picture. She put it back and closed the crate.

The boxes were odds and ends and a few marked 'Carly's stuff'. Sam couldn't resist and looked inside, finding pictures and knick-knacks that reminded her of her best friend. Best friend? How long had it been? Last year when she visited during break, Sam imagined. Some friend I am, I never even call her. As she put them back in the box the memories brought smiles and tears to her face. She hadn't talked to Fredwierd in almost two years. It was like looking at someone else's life.

She quickly closed the boxes and was ready to leave. She had found what she came for, right? All her old pieces, neatly boxed and ready to ship. The only thing she hadn't found was Spencer. That was when she saw the large tarp-covered thing. A Christmas tree? No, Spencer never had one. Just that magnetic one that caught fire. She laughed softly at the memory. Reaching over she pulled the tarp off and froze.

There was Spencer's green bottle robot sculpture. He had made that before Sam and Carly had met. He had always had that. He never sold it and never would. What was it doing here? Why was it in the basement? Why hadn't he taken it with him to his new studio? She stood momentarily frozen in thought. What did it mean?

Then she saw other shapes under the tarps. Pulling them off she saw sculpture after sculpture. The unsold and the too-personal-to-sell. She looked blankly at these, his prized pieces, left abandoned in a basement storage cage. But even these did not prepare her for the shock of discovering what lay under the stack of frames in the back.

Here were painting, drawings, sketches, framed and unframed, one after another, of a face she knew well – her own. And they were exquisite. Spencer had shown her a few tips on painting and drawing, but she had never seen him paint or draw. He had done sculptures. Except for these. Portraits of her. At her best. At her worst. But each done with great skill and care. And, without question, love. These were his masterpieces. She broke down and dropped to her knees, sobbing.

Why she had flown out here she didn't know. She could have called. But she couldn't have. She had to see her best friend. She had to see Carly. She had scoured the entire art community of Seattle before winding up at Harry Joiner's door. Spencer's hero. Why hadn't she remembered and started there? He had directed her toward Carly, but Carly would have been her next stop anyway. Carly could always make things right.

Carly opened the door and froze in surprise. She hadn't seen Sam or known she was coming, but after seeing Spencer she knew somehow that Sam would show up. Or maybe she just hoped so. She still loved Sam. Her best friend, but now a stranger.

"Hey, Carly."

"Sam? What are you doing here?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything. I don't know what to do." Suddenly Sam rushed in and threw her arms around Carly. Her tears started flowing heavily and she was so choked up she could hardly breathe. Carly held her friend tight. She had never seen Sam come apart before. Sam had always been the strong one. Carly patted her on the back and led her to a chair.

"Spencer's not here" she said.

Sam stared at her. She didn't know what to say. She felt totally lost as she had on her eighteenth birthday. Only then she had known where to go.

"Look, Sam" Carly began "I think I know why you're here. But Spencer left. I'm not sure you should find him."

Sam continued to stare, hoping Carly would explain everything, make everything better, make it so Spencer was here. Her eyes red and tear-filled she hoarsely asked. "What do I do Carly?"

"Maybe you should just let him go." Carly didn't want to hurt Sam, but she loved Spencer and couldn't stand to see him so hurt.

"I…I…I can't" Sam whimpered. "I love him."

"Sam, I love you. But you hurt Spencer. Bad. He gave up everything for you. He loved you more than anything. You can't just say 'I love you' and fix this. This isn't Freddie being embarrassed about a kiss. This can't be fixed with an apology."

Sam stared at her, knowing she was right, feeling her heart break. She sat silently as all emotion drained from her. "Carly" she whispered "what do I do?"

The classroom was noisy as the students jostled to get behind their easels. Tugging, joking, yelling and horse-play added to the general chaos as he tapped his brush.

"Ok, let's put that craziness on canvas!" he said as the class immediately got quiet and attentive. They loved Mr. Shay. He was the COOLEST teacher. Everybody knew that.

"Alright today we're going to think of the grossest thing ever and paint it. And it better not be a picture of THIS!" he said as a huge handful of green slime oozed from his fist.

The students all laughed then began talking, debating, sketching and painting. No one noticed the door open and a very pretty blond girl enter. Slowly a few in the class turned to stare at this unknown visitor. Finally one bright student cried out "Oh, my God! It's Samantha Puckett!" All the students turned in awe. But Sam was only looking at one person.

Spencer turned to look at her, a blank expression on his face. Sam froze. What had she done? She shouldn't have come. Carly had been right. Spencer walked right up to her, his face still serious and stern.

"Wanna paint something gross?" He asked.

Sam laughed as tears streamed down her face. She threw her arms around Spencer and held on to him as if her life depended on it. And she painted the greatest painting of something gross ever seen.


End file.
